Zähler: The Second Reckoning
by Caeli13
Summary: After last year's events, Wille Laire tried to keep the memories of her friend's death at the back of her head. Yet, evil never sleeps. For one, how can she save an entire city when the one man she trusts above all others forces her to stay out of the way, knowing how dire the situation was? Will she be able to help, even when she's within the safety of the castle walls? Part 2
1. Chapter 1

A/N: The long awaited sequel (not really) of The Second Stone! This one will divert slightly from the Stone because Wille is still a student and Mustang would be damn sure she finishes her education before she joins their resistance party ^_^

Chapter 01

 _He was bored. Oh, he knew how important the ceremony was for the first years, but, he did hope that they would stop with the speeches that could put even a troll to sleep._

 _Tom Riddle tried to focus on the subject at hand, though. He was, after all, the perfect student. He had outstanding in every one of his subjects, was well groomed, his wavy black hair neatly combed to one side, his Slytherin tie well-acquainted to his neatly pressed robes. His eyes were a deep emerald that stood out due to his pale skin, and, he knew he was something to look at. He did have the air of a pureblood, after all, his high cheekbones clearly spoke of true aristocracy despite his upbringing. And, true to his house, he was very ambitious and cunning. He strived to get the prefect badge in two years, and he made sure that every professor and student wouldn't hear or see a single flaw in him._

 _At the age of twelve, he had already scared enough of the higher years to not mess with him. With his cunning and quick ability in nurturing anything magical, he had gathered a band of followers who were all loyal to him – out of fear or respect, he didn't care. He was happy with his power, especially now when he was close to obtaining what he wanted. Besides, what was one year?_

" _This lot looks promising," a blonde boy spoke beside him, his grey eyes scanning the crowd._

 _Tom, as usual, just silently observed as each student got sorted into their houses. He was one of his followers, and, the lad knew that he had to put up a farce to be the charming, deceptively well-liked Slytherin in order to obtain whatever he wanted._

" _That's my sister," one of the Blacks whispered, who sat opposite to him._

 _Tom nodded, observing the girl temporarily before looking at the rest for the first years. He sensed a weak power within her, and she wouldn't do for his Knights of Walpurgis, the most elite of students he handpicked himself._

 _The girl was instantly sorted into Slytherin. He, along with his fellow classmates, clapped regally. They weren't rowdy and disgustingly showy like the rest of the houses, and, it was one of the things he made sure his housemates would remember the moment he becomes a prefect. He will make sure that Slytherin would be prim and proper._

 _The girl rushed to her brother happily, who hissed, "Where are your manners, Virgo? Show some respect."_

 _He ignored them from there, his eyes still on the first years. He was curious as to who he could add to his collection. He would only accept the best, of course. Mediocre people wouldn't survive with him. He could not tolerate them to be so._

 _Abraxas Malfoy, a fellow blonde Slytherin, who was in his year, suddenly leaned towards him, his grey eyes sparkling as he whispered, "That's Lyra Etoile." He pointed at a little girl who was standing in front of a group of the unsorted. "She's a pureblood. Her mother and my father were best friends in their younger years."_

" _Etoile, Lyra," a professor called out._

 _The girl, who was practically four feet and half, skittishly walked towards the center of the Great Hall, her heart shaped face pink. Her dark brown hair was an array of messy curls, making her look quite the mouse. She nervously sat on the stool, her eyes gazing at everyone._

 _That was when Tom met her eyes. They were weird, a shade of black that looked dark brown underneath the lighting. She wasn't even that pretty, and would probably just a waste of time, unless she would show some prowess in magic._

 _The moment the hat sat on her head, it instantly yelled, "Ravenclaw!"_

 _Abraxas sighed. "Mother can't expect me to babysit her this way."_

1.1.1.

The first thing Wille did the moment she woke up was opening the letter sent by Sonata and Harry. It has been a month since summer vacation started, and, she was still hung up on a lot of things, but worry was the most probable in her nonexistent equation.

Her long dark brown hair draped over her shoulder in a recklessly done ponytail, her stomach was lying down on the bed as few strands of her hair covered some of her onyx brown eyes as she scanned the parchment her best friend, who was older than her by a year, had sent. Her thick brows were furrowed in concentration and condemnation at what she was reading, her guitar, which she started learning the moment she landed at the Hughes for the past month, stowed away just beside her bed, neglected.

 _Wille,_

 _I know that by telling you this through this letter would make you mad, but, right now, I can't tell you much, except that I'm having a trial in three days for using a patronus to defend myself fromdementors that were walking all over Privet Drive. I'm actually with Moody (the real one) and the others. Ron and Hermione are also with me, so, I'll be fine, and Fred and George are still getting on Mrs. Weasley's moods. They send their love, by the way._

 _All the best,_

 _Harry_

Her mind started racing. It was not going to be Harry's year. She could already tell by the pitying looks he received a month ago that turned to malice. Oh, she was keeping updates, stowing away the newspapers that defamed Harry and Dumbledore, putting them in a scrapbook she called _The Things the Ministry had Done When Noseless Rose from the Grave and How We, the Humans, Should Ignore Them_. She usually had a knack for smaller scaled demeaning and defamation of the government, but, she wanted to be the one to say 'I told you so' when Harry proves them wrong. Harry has a tendency to do that, giving him a year to do it. And, it was one thing she wouldn't let her idols, Fred and George Weasley, outshine her in.

That aside, what bothered her was the fact that Harry did it in self-defense. She recalled having this discussion with Professor McGonagall when she was introduced into the wizarding world. You are allowed to do underage magic as long as it's purely for self-defense, and the worst that could happen was expulsion.

From what she could recall, ever since Fudge manhandled Harry (from what he wrote to her. She was probably asleep during that time), they called him a liar, an attention whore (to put it bluntly), and many other defaming names whereas she believed none of them. She encountered You-Know-Who's gigantic snake in first year, for alchemy's sake, and Harry was almost killed by his bodiless form, so, anything is possible when you have magic.

Now, she was staying over a hotel somewhere in Ireland, spending time with Mustang, or, _Uncle_ Roy, awaiting for their entourage. She didn't know what was happening yet, but, being stuck inside a hotel suite, as nice as it sounds, didn't go well with her hyperactivity.

She and Roy managed to establish and repair whatever relationship was lost when, in her mind, he abandoned her. It began with small time visits to that adorable cottage the Hughes family has. The matroness of the family, Gracia, who was the widow of an old friend, welcomed her heartily into the family, but, Roy seemed to not care whether she was being accepted or not. It was more like he wanted to make sure that she was adjusting quite well, and, adjusted she did. She even became friends with the adorably smart daughter, Elicia, who, resembled her mother with the brown hair and jade green eyes.

Right now, she did miss those two, especially the cakes Gracia made her. She would always invite the Elric siblings for a bite or two, also solidifying the relationship they had once shared.

She looked into her trunk, stowed somewhere at the foot of her bed. Though her clothes were neatly refolded by Roy, her accessories, or the ones she received during Christmas, were strewn messily on top of each other. What caught her eye was the jewelry she supposedly received from a secret admirer.

Silver wires surrounded a blood red ruby that twisted to form a snake. Despite the analogy of Slytherin encrusted by the outer shell, she was drawn to the ruby that glistened beautifully underneath the lighting of the room.

She never knew who gave it to her, but, the color truly called out. It was pretty on the eyes. Of course, she was not one for fashion, but, she could do well with it as a good luck charm.

"Lark," Roy called out somewhere. "They're here."

Grabbing the necklace quickly and putting it on, a strange sensation engulfed her. She ignored it, knowing that they didn't have much of a time, and headed to Roy, who looked at her luggage to ascertain himself that she left nothing behind, not that he truly cared.

Roy Mustang was many things, but, father figure, he is not. He was a man in his early thirties, around six feet in height, in her opinion. He has what she calls the cool bowl cut hair, because, even when it's not really a bowl cut, it resembled the hairstyle, and damn, he makes them look so good. His eyes were a pure onyx in contrast to her onyx brown ones, and he wore a casual brown trench coat over a three piece suit.

"They're here," was all it took for her to understand what he meant.

1.1.1.

 _It was free period, and Tom himself, being the brightest of his age, was excluded from his work. He had done the week's assignment, of course, and he had a lot of time on his hands. He had planned to head straight into the dormitory, where he could relax and continue his research on finding out his bloodline that was written in the books he had just borrowed and shrunk into a lighter medium to lessen the trouble of carrying them. It was by mere coincidence when he found Abraxas bullying a boy, who, from the previous conversation he heard, had accidentally dropped a toadstool on his homework._

" _Are you going to cry to your mommy?" Abraxas snorted at the third year mudblood. "I doubt she'll listen, considering that she's a filthy Muggle herself."_

 _The boy began to whimper. Tom couldn't help but scoff that they were all the same. They, who didn't even know about the magic world before they were introduced to it, had no right in this society. Disgusting creatures, they are. This was why he enjoyed watching Malfoy whenever he's up with his antics. Still, he didn't want to be caught in this mess, and, in order to do that, he had to pretend to be nice to the filth._

" _Stop it!"voice spoke before he could utter a word._

 _Abraxas turned to face the voice._

" _Mouse," he smiled at the girl._

Lyra Etoile.

 _She ignored his sentiments and glared at Tom, making him raise an eyebrow._

" _Tell your scumbag of a friend to let my best friend go," she glared. "I know you control him like a puppet."_

 _Tom's eyes narrowed in amusement. "Truly? What made you think that I do all of those things? You must be mistaken." Tom looked at Abraxas, whose expression was of pure disgust._

 _Lyra scoffed. "Oh, please, I'm not blind, Mr. Riddle," she sneered the way a Slytherin would have, impressing him slightly. "I see how you are always followed and wanted by everyone in this castle, but, I'm not one of them. I've spent years with people like you and Brax, and I know how cruel and malignant you are."_

" _You actually spend time with this mudblood?" Abraxas goaded, shoving the boy away from him. "You do know he's a disgusting piece of rubbish, right? He just comes infiltrating the magic world as if he owns it."_

" _BOMBARDA!"_

 _If it weren't for Tom's quick hand movements, and a hiss of a shield charm, Abraxas would have been blasted into smithereens. What caught him in surprise was the power the spell had given off. Yes, he, Tom Riddle, was caught off guard by a third year. The power it exuded was not of a third year's, but, someone who would have been at an Auror's level._

 _He faced the mousy haired girl, who was soothingly saying, "It's okay, Andrew. Let's head to Madame Sage, shall we?" She turned her gaze towards Abraxas, who was now scowling at her, "Professor Dumbledore would hear about this."_

 _He has to have her. He won't let that power go to waste._

1.1.1.

She hated flying, but, they got no choice.

Her ex-professor in second year that went by the name of Remus Lupin, was the one she clung to. He was a man with graying hair and soulful deep brown eyes. His robes were shaggy and barely holding up. He was not poor, per se, but, was a werewolf. Because of the hearsay of society, he was shunned, jobless and in hiding. Of course, with the help of the group, he seemed to have found shelter with a few people she knew well.

She turned her head to the strange girl with bubblegum pink hair. She was tall, dressed in what could be considered a greaser punk style, with a strong jaw and short hair with thick eyebrows. Her eyes were an amazing grey, something she could get lost into if she wasn't straight, to be honest. Beside her, was another one of her ex-professors, Professor Alastor Moody, who was impersonated by one of Voldemort's most loyal servant. He was a man with messy brown hair, covered in a thick leather duster with a heavily disfigured face, heavily emphasized by one of his eyes that seemed to have a life of its own. The left, abysmally weird eye that swirls on its own could actually see through almost anything, which, Wille's dirty mind, wondered whether he knows how much she loves dressing in very lacy and disgustingly too little to nothing lingerie.

She stared at the building that looked like a collection of flats. First of all, who would really like to live in flats? They're stuffy, from what she could tell, based on Sonata's experience when she went to America with her very rich family.

"Where are we?" she asked for the nth time of the night.

Moody shoved her not so gently away, muttering, "Excuse me." Tapping the crooked staff he's got, the ground beneath her began to shake. She had to clutch the weird girl by the arms before she would completely lose her balance. The shaking aside, she kept her eyes at the front, where the building was standing. Somehow, the flats began to push aside. Slowly, a building in between slowly emerged from the cracks, revealing old window panes and an ordinary looking door.

"What's up?" she asked.

Roy answered for her stiffly, "Grimmauld Twelve had just appeared." Apparently, she wasn't the only one uncomfortable with the shaking, and, she was glad about that.

Behind her, where she turned to, stood the Elric siblings. Golden haired and golden eyed Edward was the eldest, wearing his signature red cloak with the symbol of Alchemy behind his back and inner shirt of black that matched his dark pants and dark leather boots. His hair was braided just behind him to keep out from his eyes, but didn't help the bangs that hung about his front. He was slightly taller than the last time they saw each other, and it placed a frown on her face since she felt as if she barely grew.

Moody's clunking feet moved, clambering up the stairs. He turned to face the gawking Alchemists (Wille's past including her in the equation) with a growl, "What are you children waiting for, eh? Come on in!"

The three stumbled into each other, not wanting the real deal to beat them. It was a narrow corridor, too dark for anyone to see. It was no surprise when the weird girl, whom Moody hissed to with a, "Tonks!" stumbled into something. What surprised them and made Wille jump was a portrait yelling just beside her, making her ear bleed out.

"SHAME ON YOU AND ON THE HOUSE OF OUR FATHERS! YOU INBRED FILTHS AND SCUM OF THE EARTHS! YOU DESECRATE THE THIS HOUSE OF THE MOST PURE OF BLOODS! YOU ARE NOTHING BUT FILTH AND SCUM OF THE –"

"You alright, Wille?" Remus asked, holding her firmly after her initial shock as the portrait continued to spew its curses at them while Tonks apologized profusely for awakening the evil incarnate of banshees.

"HOW DARE YOU DEFILE THE HOUSE OF BLACK?! ITS ANCIENT PURENESS COVERED IN –"

She shivered, "Yeah. If cursed boxes existed, I shouldn't be surprised by screaming, cursed portraits who hates me more than the orphanage does." She stood up properly, her initial surprise now morphing into annoyance.

A swirl of black hair came crashing through the door. The person, which was a man, was pointing furiously at the portrait, yelling furiously whilst pointing his finger at the bloody thing. Instantly, her legs began to feel like jelly at seeing the man.

"Sirius Black," she sunk against Remus, who chuckled.

"SHUT UP, YOU BLOODY BITCH!"

"Still have a crush on him?" he asked.

"Wille has a crush on who?" Roy asked.

She nearly forgot about him. She turned her eyes on Roy sheepishly, who was frowning at the man clobbering the portrait with the tapestry. He struggled a bit until he closed it down on the cursed object, and then turned on his guests.

He was a tall, broad shouldered man around his late thirties. His hair was a wave of curls that fell beautifully to his shoulders. Eyes of dark cesspools looked apologetically to them, his handsome face that was once gaunt form her memories, now brimming with good health.

"Sorry about that," he said sheepishly. "My mother's portrait had been charmed with a permanent sticking charm. We couldn't bring her down."

Wille sighed dreamily. "I wouldn't mind being charmed permanently by you."

If anyone (Moody) watched Edward and Roy, they would have noticed how their expressions comically twisted. Edward had an awkward expression drawn on his face, trying to hold back his laughter while Roy seemed to want to kill or hurt something.

The man turned to face Wille, his expression turning from anger, to shock and to utter happiness in an instant. "Wille Laire!" He opened his arms bracingly.

Wille didn't hesitate to jump into his arms and hug him. She yelled ecstatically, "Sirius! I miss you, you sexy beast, you!" as she was being twirled. Perks of being short for her, she guessed.

Roy cleared his voice, "Okay, that's enough," while pulling her away from Sirius's grasp.

He put her down gently, patting her on the head.

"You grew," he commented heartily. He observed her appreciatively, like a brother would to a sister.

She grinned. "You look even more handsome." She put on a charm, pretending to be a highborn lady as she curtsied and blinked shyly at his countenance, earning a low rumble of a chuckle from him.

Leading her and the rest into what seemed to be the dining room, he chatted happily, "You are still as charmingly flirtatious as you were in your second year."

Roy snorted. "Charming? Where did you ever get the idea?"

Wille stuck out her tongue at him. "I can charm the pants out of Sirius, and, trust me, his standards in women are pretty high, unlike some loser womanizer I know by the family name of Mustang."

"Lark?"

Her attention spun to the voice of the boy she was worried for for the past month.

"Harry!"


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Sorry for the long wait! I tried my best in portraying Riddle…Comments on what you think…

Chapter 02:

 _He gracefully sat beside her, smirking inside._

" _What do you want, Riddle?" Lyra sighed, her eyes still on the book she was reading._

" _Are you sure you don't need my help?" he asked smoothly. "I heard from Abraxas that you seem to be having a bit of a difficulty with your Divination."_

 _She closed her book and looked at him with a bored expression._

 _When she was charming despite in anger in her third year, Lyra was a sight to behold at fifteen. She was two years younger than him, but, her maturity was something rare to see within the walls._

 _He watched her power grow. During their Dueling Club, he had experienced firsthand her underhanded ways of using the Dark Arts to her advantage. It was subtle, but dangerous, like, how she cursed Porton Parkinson when he subtly insulted her for not being a Slytherin through and through, or perhaps Mayfaery Crower, who was flirting with Abraxas._

 _Though, that was months ago, considering how she was heard saying, "You can kiss our engagement goodbye."_

 _The following day, from what he recalled, she received a Howler from her family, disowning her, which, in turn, she graciously stood on top of her stool and bowed, saying, "Thank you. I am now free from the stupid pureblood duties called breeding," getting detention at the same time from one of the professors._

 _During that time, he never realized how she was more Gryffindor at the face of her problems._

" _What do you really want?" she asked. "I'm a disgrace to the purebloods despite some Gryffindors seem to think so otherwise. Why would the Slytherin Prince want to have something to do with me?"_

 _He raised an eyebrow from her nickname for him._

 _Though, she's not wrong._

" _I find it fascinating that you spend more time here," he gestured at the gigantic bookshelves surrounding them, "than with your other housemates. Care to enlighten me, oh, brave little Ravenness?"_

 _She snorted. "You really think I'd want to spend time talking about Quidditch and how," she imitated one of her housemates by deepening her voice, "_ we would crush Slytherin and send them crying to their mommies _?_

" _Also, as much as I want to talk to you, I need to finish this essay before Professor Synthes gives me a T," she pointed out._

 _Tom snatched the paper from her, pointing out quickly, "No, Mars should be here," he pointed at her messy drawing, "and Venus is just in front of it, meaning that, 'In love, one faces trepidations and trials beyond understanding,' making your love life complicated," he smiled kindly._

 _She nodded. "Thanks, Riddle. I think that was the part I was having a hard time in."_

 _He smiled back. "We've known each other for years, Lyra. Call me Tom." He took her hand and kissed it, earning a deep blush on her cheeks._

 _He was slowly breaking into her walls._

 _No one can resist Lord Voldemort's charms._

1.1.1.

She missed her handsome and on-off crush and or best friend. He has the messiest hair in existence. With emerald green eyes that really look beautiful, a scar marred his forehead in the shape of a lightning. A pair of circular glasses covered his eyes due to his really horrible vision. From what she could feel, Harry's jaw structure was becoming more angular, losing some baby fats compared to last year.

"You look great," she blushed.

She could feel that Harry wanted to smile back, but, his face twisted into a grimace.

"She's here. The little sly fox!"

She grinned at the Weasley twins, who were in their seventh year at Hogwarts. Both sporting the red hair and blue eyes their family was known for, they were the complete idea of Gemini. Both were troublemakers and were Wille's idols since time in memorial, and she vowed to follow in their footsteps…when she doesn't have classes to focus on. Both were brilliant in their pranks and she fashioned her ideas mostly after them. Up until now, she still found it difficult to distinguish who is the other, though, both joke about their name, calling themselves Gred and Forge.

After literally throwing herself on Harry, the room erupted to greet her back. One of them was Mrs. Weasley, who had pretty much been a substitute mother in her life. She was the complete definition of motherly: She was a plump woman with graying red hair and warm brown eyes that mostly scared her whenever she gets mad. Beside her was Mr. Weasley, who was a tall, lanky man. He was balding around the edges of his forehead, with warm blue eyes, which his children inherited.

"We were expecting you earlier," he chortled happily, shaking her hand.

She grinned back. "Happy to see you, too, Mister Weasley."

Mrs. Weasley engulfed her next in a hug. "You look thin, Wille. Have they been feeding you there? Goodness, you need more than a slice or two of bread. We need to perk you up before you return to school."

Wille's stomach plummeted down. She didn't mention it to anyone, but, she did want to stay and help with the cause. She just didn't get around the bush in telling Roy or anyone of her decision to cut her schooling. She definitely knew what Hermione would say, and, Goddess Nyx forbid her knowing. She was sure to receive an earful. Ron would have been more understanding since they were both similar in some ways in the ways of thought – be it food or homework.

Speaking of who…

She turned to face the rest of the group. There was Ron, the same lankiness running in his bones. He was a head or two taller than his mother, but only a few inches above his father. The same blue eyes looked at her. He was smirking, a full blown smile on his face. His face was also becoming more chiseled like Harry's. He was also one of her on-off crushes, only to a lesser level. Beside him stood the brains of the group. Her busy brown hair was tied messily behind her, her wide brown eyes slightly narrowed in happiness.

Both of them took turns in hugging her. She hugged Hermione the most.

She looked around next and spotted Sonata, her best friend. She was Japanese descended Irish with cobalt blue eyes and the silkiest hair you could find. Her skin was too pale to be considered Asian and a tad yellow to be considered European. Her parents both worked for the Ministry but resided in the Muggle world for all intents and purposes (one of her parents was a Muggleborn). Though sometimes talked in an airy manner, she can be spontaneous with her topics, one of the quirks she admired very well.

Both squealed the moment they eyed each other, causing Roy to groan, "I was expecting much."

Both of them started talking together in rapid fire.

" _Kono baka_ –"

"I'm sorry I didn't answer so soon –"

" _Yurusenai dayo_ –"

"– been staying at the Hughes, the daughter is so adorable –"

"– _soshite wa o-kaa-sama to ka o-tou-sama to_ –"

"– and I seriously can't understand your Japanese right now –"

Mrs. Weasley placed her foot down with a chuckle. "Girls, girls, please. You can catch up when you have eaten supper." She pushed the two forward to sit down beside Tonks and the youngest Weasley, Ginny, whose brown eyes greeted her with kindness, her fiery red hair also tied in a messy bun.

The moment the dinner was served, she was being introduced to other members of the party, some of them she never cared for. One of them was a man called Mundungus Fletcher, an ugly bald man with yellowing teeth and hands quicker than you could blink. It was just sad that she was there, because she was a quicksilver in thievery, too. For instance, she caught wind of him trying to place a silverware inside one of his pockets, which she subtly threw a knife at. With a glare she couldn't help but throw, Mundungus made sure to stay way clear of her.

She proceeded to eat her servings of delicious hotdogs smugly.

As she did so, she caught Roy's eye, who just shook his head upon knowing how she was.

She observed everyone else that was present. The adults were discussing something in hushed tones, sometimes, looking at Harry. Other times, she caught Roy looking at her as she stared at him sideways while pretending to listen to whatever Hermione was telling them. Then, Sonata proceeded to tell her about the latest Broadway production she hoped would be a success due to the musical experience. That caught Wille's attention enough to get her to join in with the conversation.

After her third helping of mashed potatoes and Sheppard's pie, Mrs. Weasley tried forcing her just another round of food. She nervously looked at Roy or at someone else to help her out of the situation.

"Molly, dearest," Mr. Weasley began, "I think Wille had had her fill of food, don't you think?" he gave her a subtle wink, and Wille replied gratefully, "As much as I love your food, Missis Weasley, I am quite full. The serving you've given me cannot fit the size of my already bulging stomach."

"But, Arthur," she said in her motherly voice, looking at Wille, "surely you see how skinny she is."

Wille frowned. Judging from the size of her wrists, she was far from skinny. She was willowy, in a sense, but, she knew she gained weight more than she could count. She lost the ribs she always sported whenever she returned to the orphanage. Because of Gracia, she had been gorging herself with cakes, breads and other forms of food she never knew existed.

Looking weakly at Missis Weasley, she smiled weakly, "I'm sure I'm okay. Besides, I've been fed more than I could swallow."

Accepting a slice of trickle tart to appease the mother hen, she nibbled on them slowly.

Pretty soon, Harry was being sent off to bed, being told that the trial would be starting quite early. With everyone saying their good nights, she snuck out of the area quickly and shadowed Harry in the corridor until they reached the third floor, where she grappled him and pinned him against the wall, one hand over his mouth.

"You've got a lot of explaining to do, hotshot, and I'm not taking no for an answer," she smirked.

Harry pushed her away, whispering irately, "Seriously, Lark? That was uncalled for."

She laughed softly. "Roy had been giving me lessons." She raised her shirt to show her flattening stomach that started forming well-toned lines, surprising Harry. He quickly shielded his eyes as she went on, "I didn't only gain weight through eating this summer."

"Alright, alright," Harry cajoled, not wanting to get into a compromising position. He pulled her reluctantly into his personal bedroom in the house, and, being her, she propped herself on the bed, snuggling against the blankets.

Harry sat beside, his face somber. "Where do you want me to begin?"

"EVERYTHING," she emphasized.

The more she sat, the more Wille wished she was a cat-woman…or a werecat. Her pretty claws would want to sink into the depths of the Ministry's leaders in a bloody way. She couldn't accept the fact that Harry had been shamed in the newspapers and was called everything he wrote to her about. What was more interesting was the fact that the hearing was done because he casted a patronus to save his skin from random dementors that came to roam freely around Privet Drive.

"You know," she pointed out, "that _is_ pretty odd. Dementors are supposed to be controlled by the Ministry, unless…"

"Voldemort infiltrated the Ministry?" he supplied.

She nodded. "Gotta agree with that theory. I mean, come on, the Ministry isn't that stupid, or are they? So, what's your plan for tomorrow?"

She jumped to another topic like how a rock skyrockets into the air.

Harry shuffled a little bit. "Well, I guess you could say that I just have to stay positive. I don't actually know what's going to happen, but, Mr. Weasley said that he'd accompany me to the hearing."

"I want to go," she declared.

Harry gave her a look. "No offense, Lark, but, you're pretty aggressive when you argue. I don't think we need any of that right now."

She let out a breath. "Fine. But," she held on to his hand that was on his lap and squeezed it gently, "you'll tell me, right? What happens afterwards?"

He nodded.

She planted a kiss upon his cheek, the usual gesture she gives out as a comfort to her friends. From out of the blue, a searing pain engulfed her chest. It started at her solar plexus, migrating into a fiery lava that led to her head. The funny thing was, the more Harry held her for support, the worse the pain went. When releasing her from his hold, the pain quickly receded.

"Are you alright?" Harry panicked. "Should I call Mrs. Weasley?"

She shook her head and steadied herself. "I'm fine. I just…well." She really couldn't explain it and didn't want to bother with it for the time being. He had enough to worry as it is.

"I just need rest," she went on further.

Harry didn't seem to believe her, but, let it slide. Afraid of touching her for what just happened, he just smiled at her in his uncertainty as he bid her goodnight.

"Your room is just about the corner, by the way," he added. "Mrs. Weasley told me to tell you a while ago that if you became lost, it was on the third door from my room."

A red tinge colored her cheeks. From there, she went off to her room, where, surprise surprise, Sonata was propped on her bed languidly, reading one of her romance novels. Her neck was at the edge of the bed, with her head hanging upside down.

"This wizard is so stupid," she commented.

Wille took a peek and laughed. "Yeah. Talk about the insurmountable clichés. I like how he's all, 'She left me, and, now, she will pay' operandi. Have you read the other one, tough?" she pointed out, trying to avoid the topic. " _Blooded and Sworn_ is pretty cool with your typical male to male vampire romance. The second book did a major improvement, though, it's considered a standalone if you're into male slash female."

Sonata closed the book and stared at Wille creepily.

"You know you can't have him, right?" she pointed out. "Ginny likes him, and, it is against the girl code to go after the guy of your friend."

Another queer moment passed with her once again. A part of her felt something heavy settle within her chest, but, another part of her felt a pang of possessiveness and glee. The latter was one she shook off.

"I know."

"So," Sonata jumped up, "which _Witchly Dances_ do you like?"

 _Witchly Dances_ was a pocketbook publisher running in the magical world. It was the counterpart of, dare she say it, Harlequin Pages in the Muggle realm. Being a subscriber of such stories herself, those were one of the few books she and Sonata could talk about without much of a worry. They just hide the small passion from their friends, considering that it was practically one of those books you don't want to get caught with. She was clearly lucky that it was Sonata who caught her in first year, though.

" _The Dark Master's Pleasure_ ," Wille sighed dreamily. "I like how the stepbrother was actually lusting after his stepsister and was just being firm and all that because he loved control. And when she got pregnant and assumed she slept with her best friend," she made a clicking noise of approval.

"Wasn't the guy's name something like Argos or something?"

Wille shook her head. "Nope, it was something entirely Italian. The stepsister was British, though."

"I preferred _Unwanted Dreams_ ," Sonata shook her head.

Wille slowly began, "Wasn't that about…?"

It was followed by the both of them stating together, "How an ex-husband blackmailed his wife to bed with him for money when it was actually about getting her back?"

There was a momentary pause before the both of them let out a laugh.

Their door snapped open, and it took Sonata a moment to instantly arrange herself awkwardly to hide the books while Wille had a red tinge on her face the moment Mrs. Weasley entered the frame with a strict expression on her face.

"Lights out in ten," she pointed out.

As quickly as that, she left the room in haste, probably to notify the others.

"That was," she began.

"Close," Sonata finished.

Looking at each other, they nodded in agreement as they packed away the rest of the books. They bid each other a hearty good night, and sleep seem to come easily for Sonata.

Wille, on the other hand, began to have a bizarre dream.

 _It started with a boy who looked to be about sixteen, and one she recognized pretty well. His countenance was of an elegant boy, leaning casually against a wooden chair in green and silver colors. His hair was wavy, swept to one side and neatly tucked around his ears. Emerald green eyes stared at her with amusement, his lips elegantly smirking at her, making his countenance even more handsome._

" _Riddle," she hissed, recalling the very man she detested in his snake form._

" _I missed you, little one," he purred. "Surprising, isn't it? You thought by destroying my diary would destroy me, or, have you forgotten what happened when my burning self touched your skin momentarily?"_

 _She was about to throw a punch at him when he caught her and twisted her around so she'd be against his chest. With his mouth close to her ear, he whispered, "Listen here, Wille. My other self sends his regards. Now, I won't tell you how it happens," she felt him smirk wider, "but, I do tell you that Lord Voldemort does not share, especially if it's a powerful witch who has blue blood running through her veins."_

 _He traced her neck languidly with his wand. "Such power you have, Little Lyra."_

 _She struggled against his grip. "I am not Lyra."_

 _There was a moment when she thought she saw sadness before he replied, "Not yet. When you awaken, you will remember that it was not only pain I brought you with. You will remember. Soon…"_

E/N: The Dark Master's Pleasure – This part was actually based on an actual book from Harlequin's, and, yes, despite it being my mom's my curiosity got me and I eventually read it XD


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Can this be considered as a double update? xD

R&R, please! Your opinions matter.

Chapter 03:

Harry was already gone by the time she woke up. Her eyes with bags underneath and a constitution resembling a dead person, Wille was filled with a troubled sleep. Seeing Tom Riddle in her dreams…

She went to wash her face in front of the Black family's antique mirror and sighed at what she saw. Though the sides had a hint of faded silver and rust, the dusty mirror was thankfully still clear. She noticed how her eyes were wide with fear, an emotion she came to know since she and harry became friends. Her pallor was pale, her lips crusty with dry skin. Her hair was in disarray, the dark tresses falling messily like a bird's nest.

The last time she saw him, his eyes lit up with recognition that changed quickly to anger, betrayal, and determination. Her hair back then was a rebellious purple, and she was still sporting it drily. She didn't take that into account before, but, right in her dream, he called her Lyra. She didn't recognize that name, but, she felt as if she should be familiar with it.

She shook off whatever feeling of doubt she had and proceeded to join the world downstairs.

Breakfast was a silent affair. Tonks and Moody were out along with Remus and most of the adults, so, it was only Sirius and the teens that were left in the house (The twins considered it a smart move since they've been up and about every morning, trying to clean every corner of the house, or so they say). With her lack of appetite, she had to excuse herself early. it didn't escape Roy's attention, seeing that he quickly approached her and scolded her like the Colonel that he was.

"You blame yourself too much," he stated in annoyance. "You better shape up. Harry needs you more than you know." He left her there, still in a daze.

In the afternoon was even worse. Everyone was tasked to help Mrs. Weasley in cleaning and repurposing the house. She managed to break three plates and dented a couple of expensive goblets. Sirius just shrugged it off and kindly sent her to a small library. It reminded her of a typical Slytherin setting, with green drapes and dark furniture. There was a small hearth at the left from the entrance, where she stared, expecting something to pop out. It was by sheer assurance from Hermione, who had been in the house longer than she has, that the area had been de-doxyfied, a term used in expelling a creature that resembled a fairy, but, ends up being uglier and poisonous, with a pair of arms on each side and skin bluer than a Ravenclaw's uniform.

That was where she sat the entire time, reading books that she never thought existed.

One book did catch her attention. The problem was, it was at the very top of a bookshelf that was about ten feet tall. Her height was the biggest disadvantage, and, as much as she tried moving the chairs, it did not help her one bit.

She decided to climb down the flight of stairs and shyly asked Roy to help her in acquiring the book. As per usual, both exchanged their typical bout of insults before coordinating with getting the book.

"I assumed you would have found the place boring," he commented off-handedly.

"Not with the books," she replied.

Roy took a short glance on her, stating, "You used to hate them."

She did, but, she grew to love them all the same.

In three minutes, he managed to find a ladder that camouflaged somewhere within the tapestries and grabbed her book.

"That's a weird title," Roy observed cautiously. "I mean, who names their books _Blood Art of the Deep_?" The tome was covered in a black, velvet like skin with silver letters written elegantly on the front. She couldn't find the synopsis, so, she ignored the Colonel and plopped herself gently on the sofa chair that was right in front of the hearth.

What she read was something she didn't want anyone to experience. It was something she assumed Voldemort would have wanted to read himself. The tales and theories were of gruesome details on how to commit illegal acts of magic too dark for her mind to register. She nearly forgone the book when she took notice of the current chapter she was in. with keen interest, she read it slowly, her mind dazzled by new information she could use for future references.

 _ **Blood Moon of Hermes**_

 _In all of Dark Majik's histoire, one spell casted to control others had never been feared as the Blood Moon of Hermes. Formed from the blood of one who was the Master from the Blade of Hades's river, the Master molds blood and energy into a gem of such simplicity that one would know not of its capabilities. Unbeknownst to the wearer, this gem controls the very essence that is the soul, capable of possession through thoughts. Wearer would assume to be in control, and actions with thoughts seem to be their own. Subtle as it is, no one knows the true spell used in order to further such Blackest of Majik, but, it is rumored that the last to know of such spell was the family Gaunt, who were direct descendants of the famed Salazar Slytherin himself._

"Typical," she murmured to herself. "It always leads back to him, doesn't it?"

She finally had enough of the book. Grunting, she used the ladder with difficulty and returned the book in its proper place. She vowed never to touch the book again.

By lunch time, she was becoming even more skittish. With everyone else, sweat driven and tired, eating from their plateful of rich delicacies, it was her appetite that was also dwindling down.

"What's taking them so long?" she fussed, walking back and forth while everyone else was eating.

"You should know that a hearing takes longer than it seems," Hermione chastised in her know-it-all tone. "They have to hear witnesses, assess the severity of the crime, vote for the proper decision and discuss further to prevent such action. Naturally," she swallowed a scone, "it may even take weeks before Harry would be free."

Sirius muttered, "It would be nice if someone stops pacing, too. I'm getting a splitting headache."

She grumbled and took a seat beside Roy, who was more focused on the newspaper in his hand. There was a hint of age already showing on his face, but, to Wille, that did not remove how handsome the Colonel was.

"What's wrong, Roy?" Wille asked.

Raising his head, his frown deepened. "I have to return to Central City as soon as possible."

"WHAT?!" her voice rang out.

Roy let out a sigh. He leveled his gaze to Wille, slowly stating, "The Führer has moved. I don't know how long we will last against him, but, in postponing him, we could stop the second philosopher's stone from being created. I need to be there."

"I wanna –"

"No," Roy firmly declared. "I need you safe. We've lost a lot of people already for this war, including young Cedric."

She flinched at his words. The pounding of her heart was escalating, and sweat began to build on her forehead. It was not until Sonata's voice echoed strongly that Wille noticed how the room suddenly became silent.

"That's a low blow, even coming from you."

Despite her air headedness, it was the first time she witnessed how Sonata's voice modulated and turned into a deep, hypnotic tone of anger.

"You," she pointed a finger towards Roy, whose eyes widened, "of all people, should know the extent of her feelings for Cedric. He was like a brother to her, and, bringing up his death?" Sonata scoffed angrily, "You are even worse than I thought."

Wille placed a hand on her best friend's shoulder. "It's alright. I see where he's coming from. I…" she hiccupped, unknown tears recently registering to her brain. "I just…"

"Lark, I…"

Roy was lost of words.

It was as if she was possessed when she rose gracefully from her chair. There was a certain air of a Pureblood that seemed to cascade over her countenance as she exited the room, but managed to hear Mrs. Weasley whispering, "You did the right thing, love. She needs a little tough love…."

She hadn't dreamt of Cedric in a long time, not when she was easily distracted from it. At the thought of Roy's insensitive words, the trigger happened. She thrust herself against the wall of the hallways, her short breaths leaving her in a sense of de ja vu. It was like that time in Hogwarts again, only this time, she was all alone, where her clammy hands clutched her chest as air refused to enter her lungs. Her eyes slowly began to dim, and her body felt heavy.

 _ **Lyra!**_

 _Who was speaking to her?_

 _ **No, you will not die yet! Lord Voldemort does not allow his toys to leave him easily.**_

 _Lord who?_

 _ **You. Will. BREATHE.**_

"Wille!"

 _Who is it?_

 _ **Interesting…**_

"Breathe for me, _Blume_ ," a hoarse voice said.

 _German? Who would…?_

"Count with me, okay? Breathe with my counting," the voice continued.

Wille tiredly nodded. With each count, she followed. Her body slowly lightened. Her eyes began to see clearly. The scent of something muscular filtered through her nose. She tried to get up, but, she noticed a mass of black hair over her shoulder and that she was being rocked back and forth.

"I'm alright," she gasped out.

The mop of hair looked up, and she was surprised at who she saw.

"Roy," she noted blandly.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, bringing her head underneath his chin. It made her feel awkward, considering that he was never one to show much affection. "I shouldn't have said that. I… if I didn't come on time, you would have…"

"I need a breather," she gasped.

Roy awkwardly released her. His face, from a while ago, already returned to his usually chill countenance.

"Don't worry," she assured him while rubbing her chest. "It's not the first time it happened. I'm sure it won't be the last."

"Wille," he went on softly.

She shook her head. "I understand. I'll stay out of your way if you want me to. I know I'm just a burden. Don't worry," she stood up and approached her room. Looking back at Roy's expression of nonchalance, she went on, "I won't be in your way anymore. Thanks for the help."

1.1.1.

The arrival of the nightfall brought a good cheer for everyone. Harry arrived like a hero to the family. He was released from his sentence with a clean slate as of that day. Ginny and the twins proceeded to create an irritating song that cheered on Harry, which she gladly joined into while Sonata drummed the beat with a pair of dining utensils.

 _He got off!_

 _He got off!_

 _Embarrassment to the Ministry_

 _For he got off!_

"That's enough!" Mrs. Weasley had to yell her disdain at the poorly composed and sung music. "Everyone, sit down and eat."

The five moved over to take their places.

Even with the good cheer, everyone, including Harry, noticed the tension around the room the moment Roy entered. It could be cut with a knife, to say the least. But, Wille decided to keep her pride intact and pretended that he did not exist. She made sure that she sat between Ron and Harry, who, from yesterday's incident, was still weary of touching Wille in any manner and stuck to awkwardly patting her back when she hugged him.

"I forgot to announce," Mrs. Weasley called out, "your letters have arrived."

"Oh, goodie," Wille grinned.

Her subjects remained the same. Now in her fourth year, she looked forward to whatever lessons she could take. Despite her lack of talent in Transfiguration, it came to no surprise that she was well versed in Alchemy despite both areas of magic having almost the same components. She was, after all, cursed to have sin written on her due to the forbidden use of Human Transmutation. Forbidden as it was, it was a theory where one tried to resurrect the dead. With her lack of skill and knowledge of that time, she did not only fail, but lost a leg.

Now, if Roy was to return to Central City, who would be teaching?

She looked around and, all of a sudden, realized that one Weasley was not with them. In the end, her self-preservation and knack of pretence won out. She would ask later when everything is okay.

"I need to go," she excused herself silently while everyone else was opening their letters.

By the time she finished freshening up, she didn't realize that she was truly tired until she landed on the bed. The instant her eyes closed, she was drawn into the realm of dreams.

" _Hello, Lyra," Riddle's voice echoed softly._

 _She looked around the place in disgust. "Chamber of Secrets, really? Can't you be a bit more original? Like, maybe, a flower shop or something more romantic?"_

 _Riddle raised an eyebrow in amusement. "If you wanted a date, all you had to do was ask."_

 _Her expression turned flat. "Sarcasm is dead for you." She looked around the dark bricked walls where pillars of snakes rose from the ground to form around a gigantic statue of a head with a bald spot and somewhat flashy goatee. From her memories, she recalled that the statue's mouth would open when the basilisk would be called._

" _So," she began, sitting with her legs crossed on the dampen ground, "are you the one controlling the dreams or is this all just in my head?"_

 _Riddle's expression remained one of amusement. "Truth is but a version of one's opinion."_

 _She rolled her eyes. "Just like your family name – a bunch of riddles."_

 _His expression turned thoughtful. "Funny, you used to be a lot smarter than this before." Riddle approached her slowly, inclining his head to one side. "I suppose the spell you used to turn yourself into a child had damaged your head."_

" _I told you," she said with utter exasperation, "I am not Lyra. I don't even know anyone by the name of Lyra, and, I'm the only girl in the family, unless you count my mother, whose name is Lyka Ravina Dunkelheit."_

 _His expression turned frustrated all of a sudden, sending warning signals to her brain._

" _You are her, believe me," he whispered softly. "I would not be lying to you, my sweet. You know Lord Voldemort does not lie."_

" _Fine," she conceded halfheartedly just to get on with it. "Let's say I am this Lyra. How do you know of me? Like," she waved her hands around frantically. "How did we meet? Who are you to me? What made me decide to be a kid again when I could have been traipsing around in night clubs and maybe make out with a man or two in each arm?"_

 _She always saw people near her orphanage dressed in drags and wondered why those women with thick makeup would go out of their way to do something like that._

 _At her last words, Riddle's expression darkened considerably. "I trust that you haven't bedded anyone." He approached her, his strides wide and quick. She couldn't even dodge the force he threw in pinning her against the snake pillar. His eyes, once an emerald green, now had a glint of crimson malice. With a slender finger, he traced her cheek languidly, whispering even more, "I do not share my prized possessions. And," he looked at her with determination, "I always get what I want."_

" _And what is that?" she asked, breathless._

 _He sent a sinister smile her way. "You."_

 _She stared at him rudely. Never in her entire life had she ever felt so disrespected to be treated like an object. Sure, she had been treated worse as a Muggleborn, but, being delegated to an object?_

" _I am not a toy!" she stomped her foot while shaking her fisted hands. Her cheeks reddening, she went on, "And, just so you know, I was almost assaulted a year ago," his eyes turned a shade darker, which she ignored, "but, I am still a…a…"_

" _Go on," he taunted. "Say it."_

 _She inhaled deeply and quickly let out in a sentence that seemed undistinguishable, "Ihaven'tdoneanythingthatdisgustingbecauseIamsavingmyselfforsomeone."_

" _Speak properly," he mused. "You are a pureblood. Where is that poise you used to bring around when you enter the room and the wit to go against my own?"_

" _Riddle," she glared. "Shut up. You haven't answered my questions."_

 _He gave her a dramatic pause. It was annoying, how he seemed to know which buttons to press or which method to get her to cave in. In what seemed to be like five minutes, he let out another soft voice that seemed to hold power._

" _Come to me every night," he caressed her with his goading voice. "I will show you memories that which you have forgotten. In this realm, I shall only speak of the truth. We will visit your memories, and I shall reveal to you who you truly are as one of the members of the Knights of Walpurgis."_

 _That didn't bode well for her._

" _Swear it," he pressed when she didn't say anything. "Swear upon," a dark smile entered his countenance, "the Lore."_

 _Before she could utter anything to piss him off even more, she jolted awake at the sound of something ringing in her ears._

Sonata was apparently keen on bouncing up and down her bed, too, judging by the weird Japanese song coming from on top of her. More than that, nausea seemed to be coming over to visit the more Sonata bounced around her.

She asked herself what made her become friends with the hyper Irish-Japanese girl and came up with no answer.

 _I need cooler, normal friends._

10


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: once again, I am very sorry for the late update. Aside from being busy with work, I really find it difficult to portray Tom Riddle. It would be nice if you guys drop a comment or two on what you think he is here in my story and give me further tips perhaps? ^_^

Anyways, R& R, please~

Chapter 04:

"Did you know that Ron and Hermione are prefects?" Sonata opened up the moment she plopped herself on the dining table.

"For realz?" Wille asked in return, still groggy and wondering whether she cleaned her ears right to be hearing it. "Does he even have the capability for it, aside from only sweeping the place of food?" She looked at her friend as she took a bite from her garlic bread.

Sonata managed to laugh at that. "You sound like Malfoy for a moment there."

She scrunched up her nose at that comment.

"Where is everyone else?" she asked. She noticed that Sirius was still upstairs while going down, the Weasley twins doing God knows what, Ron and Harry were sleeping peacefully upstairs (she heard the snoring), and Ginny was sitting right in front of her, still drowsy, in her mint green and baby blue robes that clashed horribly with her hair.

"Mum went out to buy our things," Ginny yawned gracefully from her spot. "She wanted to wake you up, but, decided against it. Naturally, she asked Sonata to get your letter by your bedside table. Hermione found the library and decided to spend the time there. The others were doing the Order thing." She went back to her bowl of porridge while reading the _Daily Prophet_ , the magical world's newspaper.

Wille looked at Ginny with a face that seemed to be a mix of blankness and bewilderment. "I still don't know what that is. I wasn't oriented because I assumed it was an adult thing."

"Order of the Phoenix," Sonata replied airily. "It is a rebel organization that's against You-Know-Who. It was first formed by Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore during his reign and was dissolved upon the death of James and Lily Evans Potter," she looked pointedly at Ginny, who seemed to have understood the look and became completely baffled and red to the tip of her ears. "Naturally, they were on standby and were prepared for the 'in case of emergencies'."

"Fascinating," Wille nodded offhandedly.

Ginny placed down her newspaper and grinned with amusement at her. "Why do I have a funny feeling that Sonata has to simplify the description for you to understand?"

"Because her explanation was too long and boring," Wille pointed out. "You do know it takes more than that to keep me interested, right?" She proceeded to dip her bread into a bowl already filled with cream of pumpkin soup.

Ginny started moving her hand as she mockingly explained to her in a slow manner, "Order. Dumbledore. Leader," she gestured for the table, "Good guys," and gestured outside, "Bad guys."

"Ah," Wille finally nodded in understanding.

"What's the agenda for today, though?" she inquired further.

Ginny and Sonata replied in unison, "Packing."

She couldn't help but point out, "We still have three weeks before school term starts."

"But, mum insisted on it," Ginny sighed. "She said we usually take a lot of time, and she doesn't want to be late like, I say," Ginny ticked off her fingers, "three years ago."

The three of them let out a laugh at recalling the scandal that broke out when Harry and Ron flew an old car of Mr. Weasley's into Hogwarts and crashing it against the Whomping Willow. How Wille wished that she was there to join in. She was actually the only one who cheered when she found out, which was one of the few reasons why Harry and Ron took a liking to her instantly, not that they would admit it.

"Lucky the tree was still alive," Sonata grinned.

Wille shook her head at that. "Lucky that the car survived, you mean. I actually wonder what happened to it afterwards."

"Ron mentioned something about saving his life when he went to the Forbidden Forest when…" Ginny began, her shade turning a bit pale. This caused Wille to recall her recent encounter with Tom Riddle, who seemed to be more than a figment of her imagination.

It was Sonata who commented gaily, "Yes, I remember that. Goodness, who knew books could be dangerous. Luckily, I stick to romance books. At least when it tries to attack me, it's a hot possessive guy who kisses me passionately and deeply."

That seemed to have cut the tension from the air. Wille and Ginny made faces as both replied with disgust, overlapping each other's words.

"Seriously, you had to mention –"

"You actually read – "

" –not like that –"

" –horribly descriptions –"

"Ahem."

The clamoring ceased the moment Roy Mustang gave all of them a regaled expression. Wille instantly return to her food and pretended that he never existed, turning his expression into a frown.

"Hello, Sir Mustang," Sonata greeted politely. "We were just talking about good looking men and hunky looking underwear."

" _We_ ," Ginny pointedly stared at the weird girl, "were not." Turning back to Roy, she added, "Sonata was just pointing out that some cursed books were too fatal and that in the event she was going to be attacked, at least it would be in a highly inappropriate and romantic way from the romance book she was reading."

Roy nodded and looked at Wille. There was hesitation in his eyes. It quickly transformed into a look of determination as he approached her.

Both Sonata and Ginny actually eyed the two. Expectantly, they exchanged whispers of what were to happen next, ranging from Wille using Alchemy to throttle the poor guy to biting something off altogether. What she responded was something they didn't expect her to do.

"Wille," Roy began softly, "can we talk?"

She looked up from her food calmly and replied, "Of course we can. We have mouths and vocal cords, don't we?" she returned to her food and went on eating.

It was Roy who lost his self-control. Banging his hand on the table, he gritted his teeth and forced her to look up to him by grasping her chin. Onyx clashed with her dark brown eyes where ones were dark cesspools of annoyance and one of clear indifference.

"I'm trying, alright?" he growled. "Why are you making things so difficult?"

 _ **Why, indeed?**_

"Fine," Wille sighed, rising up from her chair as if she were a highborn royal. "Let us speak of our thoughts and see where this tirade will go. Lead the way, Colonel," she gestured, earning a wince from the poor guy.

Both Sonata and Ginny exchanged looks. She was acting more…arrogant and temperamental.

Upon the privacy of the hallways, Roy spoke softly, "I'm leaving by tomorrow." He paused, waiting for Wille to say anything at all, but, her eyes were casted on the ceiling, where a small chandelier was hanging from. "Lark," he let out a frustrated sigh, "please, talk to me. I already apologized. I know I stepped below the line. Why can't you forgive me already?"

"Because you still treat me like a child!" she yelled in frustration, surprising him. "I am fourteen, Roy! I have seen and done things, breaking school rules to save people that I care for, protecting Harry from whatever crazy idea his head gets into, gathering information with Hermione and nearly getting petrified by a basilisk – heck," she showed her missing leg, "I casted the human transmutation, for crying out loud! I want to help!"

Roy's eyes softened for a fraction. "You are wrong, _mein blume_ ," he stated firmly. "Fourteen is still a young age. What you have seen and witnessed is just a fraction of what is yet to come – do not interrupt me," he spoke even more firmly, his soldier side coming out as she tried opening her mouth. "War is coming, closer than you think. Soon, whatever innocence you have left will be stripped away, to be laid barren for the taking, whether you're ready or not. I know shielding you from evil will just delay the inevitable, but, I don't want you yet to do leave behind the safety of the protection I will therefore place you in." he took her into a hug, and from where she stood, his arms wrapped around her strongly as if he was afraid to be ripped away from her, "You are way more important to me than you think. I don't like not being there for you, but, you have to understand that if to keep you away is to keep you safe, then, so be it."

There was a pregnant and awkward pause that surrounded the two, with both of them unconsciously having quick rhythm of heartbeats.

"Say something," Roy stated finally.

"I feel smothered," she tried to struggle.

Roy chuckled on, "You're being a brat."

She pulled him to her tightly. "I just want to be with you, that's all. I don't want to be where I have to worry about you. I mean, Harry has Hermione and Ron, so, he'll survive without me."

"Lark," he let out another sigh. "I'm doing this for you. I know that age isn't an excuse for this one, but, I need you to be safe. If you're outside the castle walls, don't you think I will worry more about you?"

She bit her bottom lip and couldn't find anything else to say to him in that account.

"Okay, fine," she sighed, crossing her arms. "I get it. I'm useless in the battlefield. Can I go now?"

"Now, you're being a brat," his voice turned stern and cold.

Thus, for the rest of the weeks they spent together, there was always a cold and polite chill lingering in the air.

Wille, on the other hand, had other issues to worry about. For instance, Riddle decided to actually be her 'instructor', a term here she uses loosely. Though their conversations sometimes slipped into one of petty arguments, she quickly found herself to warm up to the pre-Noseless One Who Needed a Nose Job. For instance, she found herself opening about her frustrations with Mustang. At first, she thought it was a mistake, and that Riddle might possess her like he did Ginny, until he reassured her wryly that he would have done it a long time ago if he could. He began to mentor her in proper potion brewing, something about Lyra being absolutely marvelous at it.

Finally, on the day they were about to depart, she purposefully sat as far away from Mustang as possible and rushed herself to one of the comfortable compartments while humming _Fly Me to the Moon_ in a much faster and upbeat pace.

As always, she fell asleep for the first part of the ride. There, she was once again ridden with a beautiful nightmare by the name of Tom Riddle, and the sight of him made her blood boil, for how beautiful he seemed to look, there was a coldness she couldn't seem to place that scared her.

 _He was leaning against what seemed to be a pillar that resembled a snake. His eyes languidly stared at her, all charm and no harm._

 _At least that's what you think, she voiced inside mechanically._

" _Riddle," she gasped, not expecting him to invade her mind._

 _He smiled at her, not his prefect smile, but, a true smile that meant business. "You look quite charming, as usual, My Little Raveness." He was twirling a wand, and, upon a closer look, she found it strange that a part of her recognized it, but the thought was currently lurking at the back of her head._

 _Don't. Call. Me. Raveness._

 _She let out a sigh of frustration. "What is it this time?"_

" _You remember what I taught you?" he smiled thinly, somehow bothered by her attitude._

 _She shook her head. "Sorry, but, right now, all I want is to sleep, even in this state." She let out a yawn that made cats look even more beautiful. "I've been tired lately, and, no matter how much I sleep, my energy continues to deplete."_

 _Riddle rolled his eyes. With a few swishes and flicks of his wand, she instantly felt energized. That little bout of kindness didn't last, however. For when he casted the spell to reenergize her, he threw a hex that stung her skin and made it boil in pain._

 _A yell of excruciating pain was instantly released from her._

 _Another stinging hex came her way, but, she instantly drew a shield nonverbally._

" _Excellent," Riddle hissed. "You finally managed to throw a nonverbal spell without muttering."_

" _What's the point of this?" she shouted in frustration. "You trying to train me to kill your counterpart that's practically skin and bones? And, that freaking hurt!" she muttered the counter spell that he used against her that relieved her instantly of pain._

" _I have utter confidence in myself," he smirked at her, amusement clear in his eyes. "No, what I'm actually doing is trying to reawaken your memories." He walked towards her, making her instantly back away in precaution, which he took as a form of power struggle – her on the losing end and him on the winning end. "You see, that was how you reacted, too. You cursed at me, well," he added as an afterthought, "except the part where you spoke of my counterpart."_

"Larkspur?" Harry's voice jolted her into the living world. "You alright?"

She let out a yawn, stretching herself comfortably on her couch. "Whazzup?" She was still groggy from her sleep, and seeing two Harrys was an eye-candy she didn't want to stop.

She flinched as a headache made her way.

"You were muttering something, mate," Ron, who sat beside her, stated. "Something like, 'Don't call me Raveness'."

She froze up and ignored his sentiments by glaring at the chilling sky.

She was glad that the arrival of the trolley stopped further interrogations.

It was Hermione this time who brought up another issue.

"Okay," Hermione huffed haughtily. "We really have to discuss this." She quickly folded the newspaper she was reading and stared at Wille pointedly. There was a calm determination in her stare, and, she meant business.

"About?" she said through her mouth filled with pumpkin pasties that made both Harry and Hermione scrunch up their expressions in disgust.

It was Harry who went through first. "Obviously, she meant how your relationship with Mustang went south just a couple of days ago."

Wille instantly turned rigid.

"He's just…" she tried explaining her side without sounding too childish. "He's too overprotective. I know what he wants for me is good, but, I can fight, too, you know."

"Merlin, you sound like Harry here," Ron rolled his eyes.

"He's your mentor, naturally," Hermione took on her voice of reason tone. "He obviously cares about you like a father. I'm sure it is also because he wants you to finish your education." She went and grabbed one of the chocolate frogs near Harry.

Wille could fee downtrodden at what Hermione mentioned. Did Mustang really saw her as that?

"My goodness," Hermione exclaimed, covering her mouth with her hand. "You like him! More than a student should like a mentor!" There was excitement in her voice that made Wille feel awkward in her skin. Heat slowly began to creep up her cheeks that spread like wildfire to her neck.

Ron scoffed and snorted noisily. "Come off it, Hermione. That's impossible."

Hermione gave him one of her haughty looks. "Trust me, that was how she looked like whenever I tell her off about how liking Malfoy is worth a naught."

It was Harry's turn to have a comical reaction. "You liked Malfoy?!"

 _Thanks a lot, 'Mione_.

"I like his hair?" she replied uncertainly with a sheepish grin.

Hermione shook her bushy head that Wille was currently tempted to pull out.

"You used to edit pictures of how your kids would look like."

There were accusatory stares going her way from the two male.

Wille instantly shot up and stated firmly, "For your information, that was _one_ kid!" A few more seconds of staring, she admitted lamely, "That…doesn't make me sound any less pathetic."

"That explained the reason why until last year, you kept staring at the Slytherin table," Harry stated.

Ron muttered something that sounded like, "Traitor," accusingly.

The next few hours, they travelled with lighter topics about their current subjects and wondering who the new teacher would be.

It was no surprise that the moment Harry got off the train, he received quite a few stares, glares and tares that Wille had to curse off nonverbally, sending the students out of the way. There was utter confusion for that, but, she pushed the Golden Trio forward with a happy sprint in her steps.

 _At least Riddle was useful for something…_

"Ignore them," Hermione ushered gently.

Harry hissed back, "You think it's easy?"

Wille replied with a nonchalant air, "You seemed to have done well in the past few years. Oh," she grinned, "Remember the Chamber of Secrets incident? That was – ouch!"

Hermione elbowed her while Ron covered her mouth quickly before she cold say anything else that's tactless.

" _Magnificent_ ," Hermione muttered. "We get it, Wille," she let out, "that you found Harry's skills in that area quite outstanding, if he was indeed the heir, which we all know he isn't."

They managed to arrive at an empty carriage, seemingly being avoided by the crowd.

She determinedly removed Ron's hand from her mouth and stated, "Well, I still think it's – ouch! Not again!" She bumped her head this time against someone's back, and recognized it instantly as Harry's by the number of times he gave her a piggy back in her first year, much to Hermione's dismay at that time.

"What gives?" she groaned.

Harry's voice was a thin whisper of, "What are they?"

10


	5. Apologies

A/N:

First and foremost, I truly apologize for not posting in a while. I've been busy with work, ran out of ideas, and my laptop (technically, my mom's) got busted, not necessarily in that order. I've been such a bad author that I really feel ashamed for not giving you guys, who liked my stories so much, the proper updates required.

On a better note, I've got my laptop back! I just need time to sort through the story and try to get back on track. Thank you for your patience and understanding.

Yours,

Caeli13


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter 05:

Her eyes darted from Harry to where he was staring. It was either he was going crazy, or, he was just hallucinating due to stress.

"Is it a ghost?" she asked with interest.

"It's alright," an airy voice sounded within the carriage.

Wille's expression turned quickly into a smile. "Hello, fellow outcast!" She waved excitedly at the person sitting inside. She was a girl with messy blonde locks, a pale complexion and a weird sense of style that could be pointed out by the pair of radish earrings she was wearing. Dressed in the motif colors of Ravenclaw, it was none other than Luna Lovegood, a good friend of hers.

"Don't worry," she smiled at Harry and the rest in way that spoke as if she was here and never here at the same time. "I see them, too. They're the ones pulling all the carriages all the way to the castle."

Wille jumped into the carriage without further glance at the rest, striking a conversation with her instantly. "I'm riding in, girl. You don't mind them joining, right? Unless you're waiting for someone, which, I know you're not."

"Wille!" Hermione scolded her at the tactlessness she was emulating.

Being the dense girl she was, she turned at Hermione in confusion, "What?"

Ron just sighed, "Let's just get on."

"This is Luna Lovegood," Wille introduced. "She's in my year."

"Pleasure," she nodded at them, keeping the good air within.

The conversation went to her explaining her 'amulets', which Harry seemed to rudely stare at. On the other hand, Wille kept on diverting the conversation back to who would be taking the post of their DADA professor.

"My money's on a vampire," she stated with confidence. "I really like to see how this one would turn out."

"Or, maybe you're reading too much books on romance," Hermione retorted. "Besides, I don't think Dumbledore would be that stupid to hire someone can utterly victimize any of the students here."

Wille threw out a cough with, "Lockhart," and, "Lupin," which everyone ignored.

Passing by a bridge, Wille couldn't help but admire the view of the Black Lake. A warm feeling crossed her, reminiscing the days she used to spend down there until the memory of Cedric Diggory, one of her fellow classmates and brother figures in Hogwarts, rose from the back of her mind. She instantly went rigid and forced herself to withdraw her thoughts that wanted to escape.

 _ **He was weak to have lived**_.

"Ouch!" Harry hissed, rubbing his forehead where the scar was located.

 _Where did those thoughts come from? Am I being insane?_

The voice didn't make any further comment.

The four of them exchanged looks, a promise to discuss the mishaps of his scar and a way to keep their fifth companion oblivious.

They soon arrived at the marbled staircase that led to the great hall. She bid her Gryffindor friends and met up with Sonata, who was talking to a Ravenclaw boy who seemed to be in sixth year. Apparently, she was interrupting a moment, if she could consider the blush on the boy's face to be of a telltale.

He was a boy with a smooth face – probably still with baby fat, but, she couldn't help but admit he looked quite good with a tall physique and well-tanned skin with really nice brown hair. Brown eyes were looking at her best friend admiringly, and, being the type who questions a guy's motives after Roy, she was itching to question him before anything else.

The boy scampered the moment he saw her, though.

 _That escalated quickly_.

"Who was that?" she asked Sonata as both proceeded to one of the four long tables that belonged to the Badgering Badger: Hufflepuff. The color of yellow and black with a badger symbol hang from their area of the roof.

"I don't know, actually," Sonata shook her head, "But, from our chitchat, he wanted to ask me to be his study partner in Transfiguration and Alchemy." She shrugged it off quite casually. "Personally, I think he's embarrassed to ask someone younger than him for help, and, I think he should have asked you, considering how you have aced our exams."

"Not in the theoretical sense, no," she amended. "I almost failed that one if it wasn't for Mustang's coaching." She pointed out as an afterthought, "I do think he fancies you, though, if the blush went by with something."

A light tinge that came to her face was all she needed for confirmation.

She decided to drop the topic before it ruins Sonata's good mood. She hates inquisitive people, after all.

Upon settling down, she scanned the people at the faculty table. Almost all the faces were familiar, except perhaps a toad-like person wearing the most disgusting color of pink. Her hair was a lighter shade of dirty blonde perhaps, with eyes that seemed to have darted towards the Gryffindor table, although subtly.

She looked over where she took a glance, and saw Harry in a deep conversation with the others.

How she wished she could hear and give an opinion about the woman's ghastly fashion.

She took another look at the table. Upon further inspection, the other staff members were quite rather rigid and were wearing discreet looks of disgust and other forms of negative emotions.

"Who's the fat one in pink?" she asked Sonata.

Sonata's expression was a wary frown upon her Japanese face. "Dolores Umbridge, She's a Ministry woman, one of the people who are on propaganda against Harry and his claims upon Noseless being back."

She couldn't help but snort silently. "Well, I didn't hear that unlucky pink is the latest fashion. _Es ist sehr hässlich, um ehrlich zu sein_."

 _It's very ugly, to be honest_.

Pink was one of her detested colors.

Sonata snorted back, "You do know that I don't understand German, right? Either way, I'm confident at my assumption that you are insulting her fashion skills, which, in my opinion, is also _easpa_."

"Does that mean ugly?" Wille inquired hopefully.

Sonata chuckled. "I meant lacking."

"Ah," was all she could say.

One of the more reasons why she shouldn't underestimate Sonata.

Her eyes once again romanced the entire hall. Draco Malfoy was all in his smugness, his silvery blonde hair swept backwards, surrounded by his cronies and his girlfriend, pug faced Pansy Parkinson. Over at the Ravenclaw table, she spotted Cho Chang easily, the prettiest British Chinese Ravenclaw, her face withdrawn and pale. A few seats from her was the boy who cornered her best friend a while ago. He was animatedly discussing something with another girl, annoyance clear on his face.

She kept that category into another corner of her mind as she resumed to look at the other professors.

The moment Dumbledore uttered his words, she knew, right there and there, pink was truly a _hideous_ color in the form of the Ministry's watchdog, Dolores Umbridge.

1.1.1.

 _He cornered her as she slipped past her friends, laughing and exchanging insults unbelongingly to a pureblood like her. He had stalked her from the entrance, commanding his dimwitted followers to keep an eye on her. During their train ride, he made sure that they took the compartment that allowed him to see her movements. Of course, he already changed out of his school robes, graduating with the highest merits anyone could make. He knew he was perfect, and he didn't deny it so to his loyal followers. With nothing to do, he eyed her, during the trolley passing by until the opportunity stroke when she exited her compartment to change out of her blue and bronze dress robes_

 _He waited in the shadows, near the girl's laboratory. The moment her beautiful locks came into view, he instantly placed a hand on her mouth and smothered her against the wall, replacing his hand with his lips. The flavor of jasmine, vanilla and lemon enveloped him, clutching her hair tightly to show his control and his dominance._

 _She pulled away, hissing, "Riddle, what –,"to only be interrupted by his lips once again. He pressed her tightly. Assuming that she was slowly succumbing to their kiss, he pulled, marveling at how flushed she was, her hair a mess of waves above everything else._

" _Two years," he panted, straying his mouth to her neck, inhaling her scent for the last time. "When it's all done, you will join me." He left her there, knowing with satisfaction that his promise would not be forgotten._

 _Schooling his expression, he entered the compartment, looking for Abraxas, who was all too sullen still from his broken engagement with the charming Lyra._

 _He cleared his throat promptly, gaining the attention of everyone._

" _I have an announcement, and I am sure you would keep your thoughts with you from here on out." He stared down at them, his eyes cold and calculating. "I am courting Little Lyra Etoile. She would be your future Dark Lady." His eyes narrowed as he stared them down even more. "She is off-limits, even to the others. Make sure that everyone in Hogwarts would also get the message."_

" _Yes, My Lord," all of them bowed._

1.1.1.

"Un-fucking-believable," she hissed upon exiting the DADA class.

Sonata grimaced even more. "My brain was addled by how fake she is."

First day of class, she was already having a bad time. Aside from Snape being in one of his worse moods, Umbridge, the Horrid Lady In Pink and all that, didn't teach them _anything_. At all. _De nada_. Nil.

"What the freak was Dumbledore thinking?" she hissed at Sonata. "Hiring a crazy old bat like her? Ugh!" she slammed her head literally against the wall, bouncing off shakily. Any day now, she swore she would lose her brains if they weren't already lost to begin with. _Mein Gott_ , she was having a headache, and it wasn't even Transfiguration yet.

"Had Umbridge, too?" a familiar pair of voices echoed.

"Gred and Forge," she tried for a smile and failed fantastically.

"Heard it?" one of them asked.

"Harry –"

"– got himself –"

"– into detention," both twins finished in unison after trying to complete their sentences together.

Both girls gave each other a look, blinking twice, and returning their attention back to the two. Inhaling deeply, Wille asked, "Come again?"

"My dear girl," Fred, for he's the one who usually gives her endearments (And, it took her exactly _four years_ to figure that one out), "we are under a dictatorship. Dumbledore is being maimed by the Ministry by putting Umbridge in."

George added, "As says Miss Hermione Jean Granger, who, for the first time, has done a wonderful job in explaining to us what is really happening first thing in the morning."

"That does not sound good," Wille pointed out.

Sonata couldn't help but roll her eyes and say, "Always Captain Obvious, aren't you?"

Wille smirked, "I don't think to impress."

During Transfiguration, their esteemed professor, Minerva McGonagall, a witch dressed in dark green robes with her greying hair tied in a neat bun, was stiff and strict, as usual. The only thing that was off about her was the way she seemed to look at the two of them with concern, and she was right when she and Sonata were called aside the moment the classes have ended.

"What did you do?" Sonata hissed.

Wille thought hardly and came up with nothing. "Aside from farting in the girl's washroom, nothing."

Sonata did not take her jest lightly by glaring at her sideways.

Silence encompassed them for the first few minutes. Wille braced herself for whatever McGonagall would say, and was quite surprised when she said, "Are you two alright, Miss Laire and Miss Takara?"

Being who she was, she let the other girl do the talking. "Why wouldn't we be, Professor?" Sonata asked airily.

McGonagall shook her head in dismay. "You are aware who the woman is, am I correct?"

"I explained it to Wille," Sonata nodded. "Yes, we had a few questions with her arrival here, Professor, but, why does this come for a concern, aside from the fact that she's been planted by the Ministry?"

"Because the two of you are also close to Mister Potter," the head of Gryffindor house nodded. "You will be under major scrutiny, the lot of you. Why, I even warned Miss Weasley and the others to be cautious. You may not be in my house, but, it is my job to assure you that that wretched woman wouldn't harm any students under my eyes. All I implore you to do is keep a discreet way of flaunting your moves. Dumbledore and I wouldn't be there to hand out detentions, and, from what I could tell, others have already been sent to her as well."

Wille smiled in a way that felt fake and forced. Sonata, who looked at her briefly, was startled at how she was playing it. Wille was surely uncomfortable with the discussion, that's for sure, but, though her acting skills were pathetic, this one seemed easy for her to pull off.

"Now, off with you two and don't mention this to others," the professor warned them.

Wille kept her stride long despite her short legs. Assured that the corner they turned was already out of earshot, she sighed, "So, that means there are lesser chances for me to sneak from time to time to meet up with the gang at the Gryffindor common room."

"Silly you and your thinking thoughts," Sonata chortled. "The esteemed professor just gave us a go signal to meet up with the gang under secret circumstances."

A smile crept up to Wille's face. "I got an idea."

"Oh, boy," Sonata gulped. "This will not end well."

Still, she was loyal to Wille as Wille was to her. Following her through a throng of students, they arrived at their common room, where Wille instantly summoned a parchment and her ink and quill. Quickly, she began writing:

 _Study session, anyone? A universe of a world in black and white can be so colorful. – Wille_

Sonata read her letter with raised eyebrows.

"Library," Wille nodded. "Roy used to throw me riddles as a child to pass the time. I learned word play from him. My message literally translates library to those who could read it well. If you were anyone else, and you don't read between the lines, one might assume I find studying, which I do, boring."

"Very Ravenclaw of you," Sonata stated with admiration.

Both girls rushed out to the owlery. There, Wille whistled into the air, and an owl with magnificent beauty swept in. though white when up close, Eis has feathers that glisten bluish silver when swept above the clouds.

"Hey, lassy," her cockney accent came out. Being raised in an orphanage near the edge of the worst place in London, she picked up some old habits that are hard to tone down that would usually come out when she talks to her owl.

"You know what to do," she whispered to Eis.

Eis nipped her finger affectionately and flew off.

It took Hermione only thirty minutes to reply to her as both girls proceeded to Alchemy class. Eis swooped down as gracefully as it could and handed the reply swiftly with a look that said, "You owe me for this."

 _After dessert. – Hermione_

Sonata frowned. "That's odd."

Wille grinned. "There's no such thing as dessert for Hermione. While the others assume that it's about that time, she'd probably be already ahead of us. She's misguiding anyone who would want to read our correspondence."

Both proceeded to climb up the stairs to their class.

It was the class that Wille, despite not reading her theories, excelled practically. Being one to try to resurrect her own parents, she saw the secrets of Alchemy from the Other Side, and was thus capable of summoning and creating objects without the usual symbols needed to transmute objects on different ends.

"Hey, you two," Ginny piped up the moment they entered. "Is Professor Elric teaching us this year?"

Wille shrugged. "Beats me. I'm sure Mustang went on to do much more important things." She didn't mean to sound bitter, but, it was what it was.

Ginny, was in fact, correct with that assumption, for, a moment later, Edward Elric entered the vicinity, hair braided and all in his famed red cloak with the Alchemy symbol embroidered on his back.

Unlike Roy, who was strict with his class, Edward's approach was leaning more on experimentation and practicality. He valued the effort more than the memorization of theories, but, was still strict with it.

"I want you all to put in mind," he said in a subdued voice she knew was lingering in the past, "that to never make a mistake is to remember what that mistake is. This is the essence of Alchemy – one wrong move will cost you your life." His eyes turned into a molten gold as he looked at Wille with understanding, who, in turn nodded back.

It was a depressing day, indeed.


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter 06:

"And, that's that," Wille finished her explanation after an hour.

The trio, Sonata and her, were huddled up together in hush whispers with books and parchments opened to show that they're studying despite how they were more on the gossiping side…unless you count Hermione, who was multitasking by writing on her parchment, locating the answers in multiple books and listening to the conversations, interjecting her opinions from time to time.

"Blimey," Ron exclaimed in an awed whisper. "McGonagall actually said that?"

Hermione nodded while correcting her essay. "Everyone, even Snape, seems to hate her, so, I'm not surprised at all. Can you please do your DADA homework, too, Wille? I can't help you if you are not doing even the minimal work for this."

She groaned out loud. Even when their lives were at stake, Hermione's mind would always be on homework.

Surrendering her half-written parchment, Hermione's expression turned from stoic to incredulity. Within the remaining minutes, right before curfew, she had made Wille rewrite her paragraphs that ended with her getting a feel of numbness around her hand.

"Hermione is admirably scary sometimes," Sonata noted in her airy fashion.

Wille nodded as both girls headed to their dorms.

The next thing she knew, she woke up on her bed, still in her uniform. She took a chance at the alarm clock on her bedside table and nearly fell in a rush to go to class if it weren't for a fact that Sonata reminded her that it was a Saturday. She decided to spend that day wandering all over the place, humming an off-tune version of a song.

It came to a surprise when she felt the necklace on her suddenly warm up and bumped against none other than Harry, whose mind seemed to be a bit distant, by the way she looked at him.

"Hey, Harry," she smiled, giving him a look.

Harry, who suddenly noticed her, looked down and made a strange expression she couldn't recognize. He quickly replaced that weird expression with a smile on his face. "Hello. How are you doing today?"

She frowned at him. Somehow, his expression felt fake, "Harry, you're acting quite odd. And, I told you," she held his hand, and was surprised how it didn't tingle like last time. "You don't have to be formal around me. Call me Lark, too. I know you're about to call me Wille, but, as I said before, you guys know my inner secrets, so, it is just right that you call me by which is my true name, yeah?" she proceeded to ask, "What's bothering you?"

Harry just smiled, "I'm a bit tired. Had a long day yesterday."

"I heard," Wille replied. "Wanna talk about it? I may not be much of a listener, but, I heard venting out helps you release your testosterones or something."

Harry's eyes widened, "Um, what?"

She giggled. "Nothing. I was reading up on human Alchemy years ago, and that was one of the trivias that came out of the book. I wonder what happened to that book, though…."she trailed off a bit.

She felt Harry observing her in mild amusement. It was striking her odd that he wasn't quipping awkwardly about how very straightforward she was being, which was usually the case. He must have been truly tired with what detention that vile Woman In Pink made him do. Turning to face him and grasping his arm, she went on, "I know! Wanna grab something to eat? You know I'm always hungry for some snacks."

Harry grinned at her. "Perks of being a Hufflepuff?"

She winked at him, "Don't you know it!"

Her mood instantly plummeted, which Harry seemed to have noticed. He traced a strand of her hair, sending goose bumps up her skin. Alarm bells were really coming off in her head, but, she decided to ignore it.

"You seemed down, Lark." Harry's voice came out in a whisper. "What happened?"

She turned to face him with a wan smile. "Before we left, I actually had an argument with Roy. I…" she turned to face the window they were passing. "It really sucks, you know? As a child, I admired him and fell in love with the pedestal I placed him on, and…ugh. I can't really explain why I feel so pathetic, pining for someone older than me by –"

"What?" he inquired in a silky tone.

Wille couldn't help but blush. "You…were not supposed to know that."

Harry was truly confusing her now. His reactions were very unlike Harry. What was going on with him?

Harry quickly straightened himself, seeming to realize what he was doing. "I am sorry," he smiled sheepishly. "That was not my place. May you tell me what you guys argued about?"

She shrugged her shoulders, ignoring her intuition. "Stuff, actually. I wanted to continue my time in the military to help him. I mean," she looked into Harry's emerald eyes imploringly, "true that I have no experience being part of the militia or anything, but, I know my ways with Alchemy. I just…" she let out a long sigh, "I want to help him, not because I admire him or anything, but, because I feel rather off not having him around. All those months together, only for him to push me away just because he assumes I can't look after myself…and I'm ranting."

Harry looked at her with a concerned expression. "Maybe he's just worried about you?"

She shook her head. "Harry, you know what I've been through." She looked upwards with another sigh. "I know I am reckless, that I need someone to tie me down, but, this magic," she looked at her hands and raised them to her face, "they could be used for something. I've seen the Gate, and, I know that whatever happened to me happened for a reason, and that, with this ability of mine, I can at least put it into good use. It won't happen inside these halls – I have a better use for that."

They arrived at the portrait entrance to the kitchens. It was a painting of a fruit bowl, with a gigantic pear at the center. By tickling it, the portrait swung open to reveal a mass of house elves – adorable looking creatures that reminded her of Chihuahuas. All greeted them with smiles, and asked, "Can wes helps you, miss? And what's yous wants, sir?"

"I'll do it," Harry volunteered. Looking at one of the house elves, he spoke rather softly, "Two hot chocolates, one with extra sweet whip cream on top."

The house elf happily scurried to get what they want.

Wille's gaze turned to surprise. "How did you know I love my hot chocolate to have extra sweet whip cream?" She never truly drank hot chocolate with her. Usually, whenever there was a Christmas celebration at the Weasleys, she opted for tea.

Harry gave her a smile. "Diggory once told me."

Pang!

There it was. The feeling of grief she thought she overcame came rushing back.

"Are you alright?" he asked in alarm.

Wille's eyes were stinging as streams of sorrow poured out as waterworks from her eyes. "He was such a good brother to me, Harry. Even when I was technically years younger than he was, he always paid extra attention to us, made sure we were all comfortable – thank you," she turned her head slightly to the bowing elf, "and, he always made sure to be available whenever I needed someone to talk to. I mean," she let out a laugh, "Sonata and I always approached him whenever we had questions during homework. Aside from Hermione, he always helped out. I just…can't believe that he's gone."

Harry silently wrapped his arm around her. "He was a good man. I'm sure he will be remembered."

She leaned her head against Harry's shoulder, sniffling. She rubbed her nose against her sweater sleeves without a care, letting out a shaky laugh. "I'm such an ugly crier."

"No," Harry laughed. "It's the red nose. I rather think it's adorable."

A fluttery feeling swelled within her, but, she crushed it down instantly.

 _Think of Ginny, you miserable twat!_

She mentally gave herself a well-deserved slap. "Thanks, Harry. You're the most amazing brother ever."

"I am glad you feel that way," he said.

She nodded.

Like before, she kissed his cheek before excusing herself to her common room. Harry just nodded his head, not noticing the slight tilt his lips made when her back was turned.

A surprise overtook her the moment she entered her room. Lying on top of her bed was a letter, and not just any – it was written by Roy himself, in his elegant yet hard-edged script with the symbol of his family waxed beautifully on the envelop. And, as of habit whenever it comes to Roy, she rolled her eyes.

"Rich people," she sighed, opening the mail with excitement.

 _Wille,_

 _I am sorry that I barely had time to write to you. I was finding a way that the letter won't be intercepted, and, the only way for that to happen was giving the letter directly to Edward when we met._

"They met up? When?" she glared at the piece of paper, as if it was at fault.

 _I heard about your current situation with the Umbridge woman. I did my research, and I am questioning my decision-making skills in forcing you to stay ("_ Now, you realize it, _dumpfkoff_ ," she couldn't help but scoff affectionately). _She is a formidable woman in the ministry, and, from what my insider has been telling me (not Midget One, obviously. He has a lot on his plate), she is not one to be crossed._

 _As your guardian and friend, I implore you to keep a low profile. She will do everything within her power to make you suffer. I am not there to save you, and, I doubt Elric has the power to turn the tides without losing his cool. Please, and, I am now begging you. If something happens to you, I don't know how to face the people here in Ametris, who are all worried about you, too. Don't give us any more grief. The events here aren't really helping with my stress level, and I might lose my hairline faster than you can say Homonculus._

 _Yours,_

 _Cl. R. Mustang_

 _P. S. Gracia sends her regards._

His sentiments were rather thoughtful, in her opinion. Mostly, she knew how much of a worrywart he can be on the inside compared to his stoic persona on the outside that she decided to respond

 _Roy,_

 _I am fine. For now. No worries, I admit I was being childish, and I am sorry for what has transpired previously between the two of us._

 _So far, things are not going so well. Harry got his detention right off the bat (he mouthed at that woman), and, she seems hell bent on doing what you assumed. For now, Hermione is assuming that she is the implant of the Ministry (this is obvious) and she is going to undermine Professor Dumbledore's power here to control our activities._

 _Currently, though, Ed has been a good mentor. Everyone is looking forward to his exercises. Although I miss your horrid methods quite horribly, I digress, for I am having way more fun with his lessons._

 _I will send this letter via Ed, so, it might take time before it arrives._

 _All the love,_

 _Wille_

 _p. s. Will write to her soon : )_

With her letter for Roy done, she proceeded to write to her foster mother. She included how happy she was with things, leaving out the morbid details. Finishing it up to her current day, she sealed the letter off with kiss for good luck and headed towards the owlery. Afterwards, she hunted for her professor, who was, apparently, in the middle of wrestling a miscalculated Alchemy experiment in his office. From what she could tell, he might have tried using a binding Alchemy on a plant that made it look like a Venomous Tentacula with legit octopus tentacles.

"You do know I can come back, right?" she spoke uncertainly.

With a struggling breath, Edward gasped, " _Warte_!"

 _Wait!_

Wille watched, slightly amused, as the unknown, green tentacle tried to pry him apart. It was not until three hours later (and, with Wille's expertise in Charms and Transfiguration) did they manage to subdue it.

" _Danke_ , Lark," Edward gasped as he wiped sweat from his brow. Looking down on the younger girl, he inquired, "What can I help you with?"

 _Thanks._

She grinned widely and handed him a parchment. "Mustang tells us to go under on this. Like, a typical espionage. He has certain suspicions that I would like to discuss with you. But first," she observed his ripped jeans and tattered clothes, "you need to change. That thing you created really did you in."

1.1.1.

 _He's changed. So much that it hurts._

 _She should have seen it from the very beginning. She could have stopped him. Rowena knew what was going on with his mind. Oh, she knew how evil he may get, but, with her, he always showed kindness. She was truly an utter fool to believe his façade._

" _Lyra, hurry up!"_

 _She was panting, her breath short and heavy. Sweat drenched her from head to toe with dust marring her pale skin. Her once pristine azure dress was torn towards her ankles, her boots making the soft tapping on the ground._

 _The forest was empty, except for the sound of its creatures. Trees of different kinds littered all over, eerily speaking so, as owls could be heard hooting that accompanied the sound of two ragged breaths._

" _Andrew, I can't," she gasped, her knees giving way. "He will find me. He'll ALWAYS find me." She couldn't help but cry._

 _A dark laugh echoed in the stillness._

" _You have to run!"_

" _AVADA KEDAVRA!"_

 _Andrew stilled, his eyes turning blank as he quickly slumped to the ground._

" _Lyra," a hissing voice echoed._

" _NO!" she screamed into the night._

1.1.1.

Staring. And staring. And staring.

"Um, Lark," Harry whispered beside her. "What are you staring at?"

 _ **Still talking to Potter? Did you enjoy flirting with him last night? What would poor Ginevra do if she finds out?**_

 _Shut up, Riddle. I'm thinking._

 _ **Such a Ravenclaw**_ _._

She shut the voice out as she continued to stare at the woman in pink from the Gryffindor dining table. She couldn't decide whether she hated the woman or Snape. But, in fairness, she seems to pity the guy. He was sitting just beside the old wench.

"I despise her," she hissed.

"Who?" Ron asked as he gobbled down his chicken.

"Umbridge," she hissed back.

Harry placed a hand on her shoulder. "Everyone does, except Filch, apparently."

She turned her gaze to Harry. "I might be dumb, but, I'm not that stupid, Harry." She pulled his sleeve up to her face, showing the scars she heard was done by a blood quill. The fact that Hermione furtively explained to her the events, trying to calm her, it did not stop her from trying to charge at Umbridge's office and Alchemy her ass back to the space and beyond.

Harry sheepishly tried to hide it with a grin. "I'm alright. No need to worry."

"We had the entire afternoon talking together, Harry James Evans Potter, and, you didn't even bother telling me?"

Harry raised his hands in defense. "Hold up. What do you mean we were together? I was in the common room the entire time."

 _Are you fucking kidding me?_

The voice tried interjecting its two cents in, but, she shut it down instantly with pictures of an imaginary Harry shirtless (she realized this weakness when she accidentally daydreamed about Harry in his eternal glory after their recent Quidditch practice, but, she wasn't telling anyone about it anytime soon, lest she suffers utter humiliation at the fact that she still has a crush on him).

Ron gulped his food loudly and managed to say, "No, you weren't, mate. You even asked me and Hermione if you could look for her because you wanted to talk to her about something. After that, you came back before dinner, but, you said you were too tired to bother eating and passed out instantly the moment you hit the hay."

Hermione, who was busy reading _The Prophet_ the entire time, lowered it and examined Harry, her eyes narrowed, "Are you sure you're alright? You've been blocking out for the past few weeks," with Wille placeing a hand on his forehead, going on for Hermione, "And, it looks like as if you've barely slept. What's gotten into you?"

"It's nothing," he murmured hastily.

Wille decidedly stared at him with a deadpan expression. "Have you been having wet dreams about Cho Chang? I know you're crushing on her."

The tension lightened the moment Harry's face turned beat red from her statement.

Hermione just snickered as Ron gaped at Harry in surprise.

Wille couldn't help but roll her eyes. "Do you actually get a kick from being beaten by someone from the opposite gender? Yeesh, I didn't know you were a masochist, Harry boyo. Testosterones, I tell thee."

"You were pretty obvious, Harry," Hermione chimed in. "You've been chasing after her since third year."

"I thought it was since last year?" Wille frowned.

"Really?" Ron stared between the three of them. "How come no one's ever told me?"

"Oh, Ronald," Hermione sighed dramatically.

"I second that one," Wille swallowed her pasta ungracefully. "The Yule Ball was kind of a proof."

Amusement was clear in her expression. Oh, she loved goading Harry in times such as those. His expressions from scowling to embarrassment were her form of entertainment. Hermione once noted that was one of her traits that could have landed her in Slytherin, if it weren't for her bloodline.

"Knock it off, why don't you?" Harry grumbled as they all stood to head for their classes.

Hermione and Wille were left laughing at his back.


End file.
